Wild World

I sat hunched over my glass of whiskey. It was a double. It had to be. No other amount would do.

She was out of my life. I wished her well, but I couldn't help but worry for her, a person I felt so deeply for.

I mourned her as if she were dead.

I lifted the glass to my lips, but decided that first there needed to be a toast. One of remembrance. I pulled the glass away from my lips and held it up as if waiting for a second, imaginary glass to clink it.

"Le do sonas..." I said to myself, aloud and in a tone that couldn't possibly not have conveyed the hurt I was feeling.

I took more of a glug than a sip, but it was a glug-worthy moment. There was a hole in my heart where my friend should be. I took another, more reasonable swig this time, in honor of her. She hated the taste of alcohol, but couldn't help herself from nursing a whiskey while waxing philosophical with me on Sunday nights.

There aren't many in this world that will make you feel like your ship is being guided.

I now felt rudderless at sea.